


Drunk

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But when isn't he, Drunk!Grantaire, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire drunk-calls Enjolras, and the other man has no choice but to come over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk

It all started with a drunk phone call. 

Enjolras was awoken at exactly two o'clock in the morning, by his cell phone's insistent beeping. 

He sat up and took the infernal thing off his bedside table and answered it, not paying much attention to to who was calling in the first place. "What, what do you want?" 

He heard a noise that sounded like a bottle being set on a table, and then a voice. Grantaire's voice. "Hey, Enjolras." 

The man in question fell back onto his bed, running his free hand through his blonde hair. "Hello, Grantaire." 

The man on the other line laughed merrily. "Hello!" 

Enjolras groaned and rolled over, closing his eyes. "Did you want something, Grantaire?" 

The man made a noise of realization, before speaking. "Oh, yes! There is something I wanted to tell you." 

There was a silent moment, before Enjolras huffed and spoke. "What was it?" 

"Oh, right! I was going to tell you that I'm really in love with you." 

Enjolras' eyes opened suddenly and he paused. Then, he understood. "Grantaire, how much have you had to drink tonight?" 

A scuffle sounds. "Two-no-three, bottles." 

Enjolras sighed with exasperation, sitting up and wondering just how Grantaire was still alive. "I'm coming over. Stay in your apartment." 

"Oh, good. I'm gonna kiss you when you get here." 

Enjolras just hung up and heaved himself out of bed, silently cursing his drunken admirer.  
\--  
"Grantaire, I'm here. Please make yourself decent." Enjolras called when he stepped into the apartment, setting down his admirer's spare key and sliding out of his coat. He followed the sounds of soft scuffles and bottles being set down to the living room, where Grantaire sat. He was drinking straight from a bottle of whiskey, and grinned when he caught sight of Enjolras. "Grantaire, come on. I'm here to take you to bed." 

The man turned to him with a filthy smile and, without missing a beat, said, "Well, I thought you'd take me to dinner first, but-" 

Enjolras simply rolled his eyes and stepped closer, shaking his head. "Come on then, up you get," He coaxed, trying to pull the drunken man to his feet. "You need to sleep off your drinks. Come on, up." 

He finally managed to pull the man up, but Grantaire only smiled and fell against Enjolras' chest, giggling. 

"Grantaire, stop it." Enjolras ordered, trying to fight the younger man off as he twined his arms around Enjolras' neck. "Come on, let's get you to bed." 

Grantaire smiled and shook his head slightly. "I don't want to go to bed, Enjy. What if I don't wake up?" 

"Don't ever call me 'Enjy' again. And of course you will. Come on," 

"No, Enjolras. I'm scared." Grantaire said, and the only sober man in the room found that he truly sounded petrified. 

"You'll be alright." Enjolras replied, his voice taking a slightly softer edge. He slowly led the man towards his bedroom, until they reached the darkened room. 

He helped the man out of his jeans and t-shirt, pulling back the warm covers and helping Grantaire in. Much to Enjolras' surprise, he was oddly quiet. Then, he spoke. "E, will you-would you stay with me?" 

Enjolras paused, looking down at the clearly frightened man in front of him. He stared at him for a long moment, before nodding softly. "Uh, sure. Yeah." He said quietly, mindlessly kicking off his shoes and slipping into bed beside the dark haired drunk. 

Said dark-haired drunk leaned his head against Enjolras' chest, and it gives him a sudden sense of purpose, and the thought that his friend needs him, even if only when drunk, overwhelms him. He let his arms wrap around Grantaire and held him tightly, kissing his unruly hair and muttering reassurances in his ear.

And just like that, Grantaire fell asleep curled against Enjolras' chest, leaving the sober man alone with his thoughts. 

After a few hours, Enjolras learned that Grantaire must have woken up, because a quiet voice broke the silence. "Enj?" 

He sounded somewhat sober, so Enjolras decided to take him seriously. "Yeah, R?" 

The man shifted against him, tangling their legs together. "Do you like me?" 

No. Enjolras tolerated Grantaire. Barely that, even. But he didn't want to scorn the man like that. Now right now. "Of course I like you. You're my friend." 

He felt Grantiare shaking his head, and felt nimble fingers drawing circles on his chest. "You know what I mean, Enj." 

Enjolras sighed softly and tightened his hold on Grantiare. As much as he may condemn the man a disgrace, a useless jest for their friends, he still didn't want to hurt him at his most vulnerable point. "Yeah, R. I do like you." 

It took a few minutes, and Enjolras thought maybe he would feel some sort of fondness, some sort of companionship towards the man. But there was nothing. He simply pulled the man tighter to his chest and tried to ignore the feeling of guilt gripping his heart, and kissed the man's head softly as he drifted off into sleep against Enjolras' chest. Enjolras, who didn't love Grantaire. Never would. 

He felt more guilt than he'd ever felt in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This actually ended up being really sad. This is my very first Enjoltaire fic! What'd you guys think?


End file.
